Too Fiercely
by tromana
Summary: He could only afford one night and if that was what she wanted too, it was what she would get. Jello Forever February 2010 Challenge Entry. Prompt: Love Songs. For boutondor.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I hate my plot bunnies. They're rabid, I swear. At the end of last month, I said I wasn't going to write a multiparter for this month's Jello Forever challenge. So instead, I've found myself writing not one, but two. Oh dear. Luckily, this is only a two-parter. I swear. Don't look at me like that. No, don't. Please?

x tromana

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**Title:** Too Fiercely  
**Author:** tromana  
**Rating:** T  
**Characters:** Jane/Lisbon, Team  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
**Summary:** He could only afford one night and if that was what she wanted too, it was what she would get.  
**Spoilers: **Up to 2x08 His Red Right Hand  
**Notes:** written for boutondor in a LiveJournal prompt meme. Jello-Forever February 2010 Challenge Entry. Prompt: Love Songs. Inspired by, and the title comes from, 'As Long As You're Mine' from Wicked the musical.

**Too Fiercely**

**Part One**

The door clicked open and shut once more and Jane found himself having to bite down on his tongue to prevent himself from laughing out at the bitter irony. Lisbon was a law enforcement officer and proud of it and she should have known better - much better - when it came to home security. Still, he wasn't going to complain. It was because she was strangely lax when it came to locks and alarms that he was able to get into here, her inner sanctum, at all. That he could do what he wanted to do.

He sincerely hoped that the repercussions wouldn't hurt her too much, but whatever he thought, said or did, he knew that was just an empty promise. He'd already hurt her, even before he'd even stepped through the door, she just didn't know it yet. Jane had a feeling that it was going to hurt him a significant amount too, but that didn't matter so much. It was just additional pain to be shelved along with everything else that had gone wrong in his life and the losses he'd endured before. But he had a shrinking feeling that it could possibly hurt even more than he could imagine right now.

Ever since losing his wife and his baby, he knew that he was never going to be able to go through that again. He'd resisted his attraction to Lisbon for so long now and he'd long since accepted that it was a side of their overly-complex relationship that he would never be willing to try out. At times though, his mind taunted him and he found himself imagining Lisbon with softened eyes staring lovingly at a baby girl, a soft pink bundle of joy. He would have his arms wrapped tightly around them both and nothing could break their happy little family unit. Maybe in another time, another Universe, that could have been their reality, but certainly not this one. He could only afford one night and if that was what she wanted too, it was what she would get.

As light from the hallway filtered into her bedroom, a frown knitted across Lisbon's brow as she buried her face into her pillows and mumbled something incoherently. She wasn't particularly expecting to be disturbed that night. If anything, she'd have assumed that her cell phone would go off, calling her into work at some unholy hour. Certainly not the presence of a blond haired, blue eyed consultant who she berated as regularly as clockwork. Once she realized that the light penetrating her previously dark bedroom wasn't going to go away any time soon, she eventually turned over and stared at him through sleepy, slitted eyes. It took several blinks for her to confirm that she wasn't dreaming or hallucinating. Lisbon also knew that she should be angry; breaking and entering was a felony, after all, but she was too tired and confused even for that.

She wasn't too tired, however, to react almost immediately to the soft hands cupping her face, nor the gentle pressure of his lips as they came into contact with her own. As instincts took over from rationale (and made any underlying anger conveniently dissolve into nothingness), she knew that it was easier to remain silent. To let gentle touches, teasing mouths and ragged breaths do all the talking instead. The only word she uttered was confirmation that she agreed with what he was doing, that she was okay with him breaking into her home to seduce her. That this unexpected late night, or possibly early morning but she wasn't quite sure of the time and frankly didn't care either, tryst was entirely consensual.

As time marched on, touches grew more urgent, gazes more pleading. Like they both needed confirmation that what they were doing was real and was actually happening. It wasn't just some bizarre dream that they were about to be cruelly pulled out of unexpectedly. Except, the way he left her so suddenly, she felt as though he might as well have pulled her out of some trance-like state. As she stared at the rumpled bed sheets and ran her fingers through her knotted hair, she wondered just what had happened and more importantly, why.

Trying to sleep wasn't really an option, not with her mind whirring at a thousand miles an hour. She felt as though her entire life was in a state of disarray. Whenever one of them had tried to make a move, the other had pushed them back into place. But what had just occurred had felt so natural, so right. Why had they fought against it for so long? Oh yes. Two words. Red John. What had changed, allowing them to take the step? Carefully, she shrugged out of the soft robe which she had wrapped around her lithe body while deciding what to do in these terribly early hours, when everyone who was sane was still in a deep slumber. The shower water should have adjusted to the right temperature by now. Tentatively, she held her hand under the stream, flinching as the scalding water hit it. As she was about to step into it, she paused.

Her cell phone was ringing.

Sighing, she picked the robe back up and rushed back through to her bedroom to see who would be ringing her at four a.m. To be fair, there was only two likely culprits. Jane, to explain why he had disappeared as suddenly as he'd appeared in her home, or her boss, calling her into work. She sighed as she saw the name on the screen. Of course it wasn't going to be Jane. It would be too much to ask of him to receive an explanation of any sort.

"Boss?"

"We've had an anonymous tip-off regarding Red John."

"Right."

"He's dead."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"I'll be there in half an hour."

"Good."

The call ended abruptly, after Lisbon agreed to call in the rest of her team. With a sigh, she headed back into the bathroom. The room was filled with a heavy steam and she almost choked on it as she waded through to the shower to turn it back off. This, at least provided her with an ideal distraction from thoughts of her with Jane, even though she knew she'd have to face him again imminently. Though, she couldn't help but shudder at the coincidence. Just as she had been considering the serial killer and the way he seemed to be the major reason (or rather, excuse) either of them could come up with to avoid starting a relationship.

She arrived at the crime scene overly tired and overwhelmingly stressed. If anything was going to kill her soon, she swore it would be worry. If there was something to worry about, she'd find it. Lisbon knew that she may look cool and calm on the outside, but on the inside, she was really a bag of nerves. It was just fortuitous for her that she was good at pretending. Van Pelt and Rigsby arrived together, exactly three minutes after Cho, seeing little point in denying their relationship status as there was nobody around to pry. Lisbon nodded her greeting to them quietly, pressing her cell phone firmly against her ear. Despite the fact that officially, she didn't 'know' about them, she normally would have taken the time to remind them that the kind of behavior they were displaying was inappropriate for the work place.

On this occasion, she was distracted, however.

No answer.

Still.

She'd already tried seventeen times, at least.

And it was getting rather frustrating.

Flipping it shut, she dispelled the nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her that she needn't tell him that Red John is dead, because he probably already knew. She had work to do, a dead body to see, a crime scene to assess. If Jane was going to be stubborn enough to ignore her after what had happened only a couple of hours before, then so be it. She wasn't going to let him get a rise out of her for it. Work was her priority, as it always had been and going by what was happening now, probably always will be. As she walked into the dusty, cobwebbed room, she swallowed down the bile that what threatening to make its presence known. Not many crime scenes had that kind of effect on her, years of them had desensitized her, but the mixture of a bloodied corpse and a lack of sleep had changed things from the usual status quo.

When they'd finished everything they needed to do there, Cho cornered her for a quiet word, concerned about Jane's no-show. She was as honest with him as she could allow herself to be - there was no point in lying to him. She didn't know where he was and she didn't know why he was refusing to answer. Part of her had a feeling that she should mention his mysterious appearance at her apartment, but her desperation to protect her private life stopped her. But Cho didn't need to know that and they didn't need to talk about it. Both had the same shrinking feeling that Jane was responsible and felt like if they vocalized the opinion, it would make it seem like even more of a reality.

So, when they arrived back at CBI headquarters and she saw a post-it note attached to her computer screen in his familiar handwriting, her blood ran cold.

Especially so when she realized that they said 'I'm sorry'.

**TBC...**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Ugh, I've had a bad day... and writing this has really cheered me up. Yes, don't ask, I'm odd. Hopefully, now I'll be able to focus on my other 3 multiparters now I've got this out of the way. I really couldn't focus on anything else.

Anyway, thanks to twin for just reassuring me that this is okay. HUGS! And thanks to: lisbon69, Iloveplotbunnies, mwalter1, Queen Em, Ebony10, yaba, Frogster, Charmed225, HOUSEMDFanForever, Divinia Serit, Viktorija, Habeous Corpus, simonisthecutestmentalist, Famous4it and mtm for reviewing the first part.

Again, this is inspired by 'As Long As You're Mine' from Wicked the musical.

x tromana

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**Part Two**

It was one thing trying to track down your average criminal. Those who killed for love, money, out of anger, because it'll make the world a better place or any of the many countless excuses. It was another thing entirely when said criminal had not only worked for the police and knew every little detail about procedure to know what to avoid, but also had an acute knowledge of human nature. Add into the mix being ever so slightly in love with the one man you're after and you're not going to win, any way you look at it.

Lisbon stared at her hands and for the first time in a long while, she found herself wishing that somebody, anybody would just come and take the weight off her shoulders.

Did she regret that night? Of course not. Given the chance to replay the night and choose again, however? She'd probably abstain. Because that one shred of hope that she'd been given, if only for a couple of hours, was now eating her up from the inside. She should have known better. Should have stopped him from leaving. Should have asked more questions. Thought through things logically instead of acting immediately with her body. If he'd just run without coming to her first, at least she'd have felt more capable about closing off her feelings for Jane. She wouldn't have been so concerned about her judgment being clouded and she'd have felt like she could look at the case far more pragmatically.

At first, Lisbon knew that she wasn't chasing the case as hard as she should be. She didn't like the idea of Jane being locked up any more than the rest of the team, so really everything they did was terribly half-hearted. It was her way of giving herself more time to adjust to the concept of arresting him. She knew that eventually, she would have to do something about it and in many ways, stalling was making things worse but frankly, she didn't care. It was only when the threats started coming from above that she actually allowed herself to focus on the case at all and start to at least try and make some progress.

"Do you have the records of Jane's credit card use, yet, Van Pelt?"

She flinched at her own tone as Van Pelt shook her head. Jane had probably already destroyed the card anyway, he knew full well that it was safer for someone on the run to live cash in hand. It makes them less traceable. They'd found the blue Citroën he'd treasured so much dumped several miles outside of Sacramento and despite her many complaints about the vehicle, even Lisbon thought it was criminal having such a pretty little car locked away as 'evidence'. But it did prove that he'd ran though and therefore, was probably guilty. When news trickled through that his family home had been destroyed in a fire, she wasn't surprised either. That had always been his greatest link to the past and once Red John was gone, there was little point in him clinging onto it. Lisbon surmised that Jane had probably found the experience cathartic and it did remove yet another location to scour around for him. They had the DNA evidence from the crime scene anyway. A few spots of Jane's blood, obviously withdrawn by the serial killer in the scuffle and a few strands of hair were more than enough to link him firmly to the crime.

Eventually, the answer seemed laughably obvious. There was absolutely no point in pleading to the general consensus for clues; Jane knew how to disappear. They had been wasting their time just checking paper trails and the like. He knew all those techniques and knew the tricks around them. Instead, Lisbon simply checked the records and dates and breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that she hadn't missed the anniversary of his family's death. In fact, it was in a fortnight. The concept of doing a stakeout at the cemetery was incredibly uncomfortable, as was the idea of invading his grief. But she also knew she had little choice. However she looked at it, whatever way she painted the picture, Jane had still killed a man and it was her responsibility to apprehend him. That lead to the small factor of her moral standing. Even though she was, is, in love with him, she simply cannot let a guilty man walk free and not only because some suits are putting on the pressure.

When the date eventually arrived, Lisbon started her stakeout, alone, at midnight. It was going to be a long eight hour shift, but she'd insisted upon working the hours, if only to make things easier on her team. Also, she had a sneaking suspicion that Jane would turn up early, trying to get the yearly visit done before they turned up. As she shivered underneath the thin blanket that she had brought along with her she began to doubt him. But if there was one predictable thing she could almost count on him doing, this was it. Every year she'd known him, without fail he'd visit the cemetery with a bunch of the finest roses for his wife and a posy of daisies for his daughter. Not because he believed they'd know, anything but. Mainly because it was what society dictated and in the past, it reminded him of his quest. Now, it would probably serve as a reminder that he'd done what he set out to do, or so she hoped.

She was nearly falling asleep, with only half an hour to go, when she spotted the shadowy finger approaching the appropriate graves. Quickly, she slipped out of the car seat and approached the figure, her heart stuck in her throat. It felt like an age since she'd seen him last, though in reality it had only been about ten months or so. She was fairly certain she hadn't made any significant sounds - she was even holding her breath - until his head whipped around and he spotted her. His eyes widened slightly in surprise; he hadn't realized that she knew the significance of the date but he cursed himself for doubting her skills. He didn't run though, there was no point. Even though he was feeling physically more fit than he had done for years, Jane knew that Lisbon would still be able to outrun him in a flash. It was easier just to stand and face her, like a man, then run away like a scared boy. He could try pleading to her compassionate side, but he knew that this was it. Even he couldn't talk Lisbon out of bending the rules when it came to justice, even for him.

Before either of them spoke, Jane took the time to take in her appearance. She looked a little more haggard, stretched thin and certainly very tired, though that probably had something to do with being near the end of a stakeout designed to capture him. It worried him to see that she'd lost enough weight for it to be noticeable too, especially as she wasn't exactly that big to start off with. While he'd been away, he'd sincerely hoped that she'd been looking after herself instead of wasting away to nothingness. Living in the past did nobody any good - he was testament to that. After the deed, he'd realized exactly it was that he'd done. Not the idea of killing a man, he was strangely okay with that. It was the fact that he'd thrown away a second chance at life and the love of a good, very good, woman in order to follow through with a reckless plan of vengeance. Killing Red John made no difference to the fact that his family was still dead, or the gaping hole that they had left in his life. All it had done had caused even more damage by hurting those who had grown to care for him, probably more than they should have. The damage was simply never ending and only now that it was over, he was able to see that that was the case.

"Teresa, I…"

"No, don't say anything," she glared at him as she unhooked her cuffs. "Just… don't."

Lisbon pushed him around, so that his back was facing her a little too fiercely, but she really didn't want Jane to see the tears that were threatening to slide down her face at any minute. Over the past few months, she had imagined the scenario several times, what he'd say, what she'd say. It was never pretty and half of her had been wishing that they'd never find him or if they did, it wouldn't be alive and she hated herself ever so slightly for that. But still, that way, she would have been able to close the case and mourn him in peace. There would be something to 'get over' rather than having it all hanging up in the air. All unfinished memories and incomplete storylines. Like conflicting love songs over different speakers, all competing for attention but none particularly standing out. Swallowing down her emotions, she grabbed at his wrists. There was a time and a place to address her personal feelings pertaining to the case and Jane. While she was arresting him most certainly was not one of them.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do say…"

He switched off ever so slightly as she spoke. It wasn't as if he hadn't heard it all before and besides, the crack in her voice was almost too much to bear. Instead, Jane focused on the way she held his hands securely behind his back. The bend in his arm, the cool metal of the handcuffs as they slowly encircled his wrists.

Click. Click.

end


End file.
